“Neil has a point.” Horton reached a hand toward Leschuk’s wrist but stopped a few inches shy. “I never dreamed Oraloxin would work faster than an intravenous antibiotic.”

“That is not the issue.” Leschuk glanced from Ryland to Horton. “Ellen, we’ve had your drug in the lab for more than three years now.”

“And?” Ryland frowned.

“We know what it can do against MRSA.” Leschuk brought a hand up and rubbed the thick stubble on his chin. “I’m not worried about how well it works.”

“Damn it,” Ryland groaned and rolled his eyes. “Here we go again.”

Leschuk covered his eyes with his hands. “Neil, can we really close our eyes and pretend it never happened?”

Ryland grabbed for the page in front of him. “It never did happen!” he said hotly, waving the sheet. “Look. Here’s the list of side effects the investigators documented in Chicago. Nausea, diarrhea, hives, insomnia … I don’t see anything about bone marrow problems.”

Horton reached over and gently pushed the paper down to the table. “That’s not Viktor’s point.”

“I know,” Ryland said, his voice calmer. “But we’ve been over the primate findings so many times. We don’t know what went on with their bone marrow. Two chimps out of hundreds, maybe a thousand, do not—” Ryland stopped in midsentence when he heard the knock at the open door.

Horton looked over to see Luc Martineau, debonair as ever in a four-button navy suit, standing in the open doorway beside a woman in a stylish gray jacket, slacks, and wide-collared cream blouse. Horton recognized the attractive middle-aged woman with short gray hair as the one who had asked the questions during her presentation to the board.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Martineau gushed. He turned to the woman and spoke as if the others were not in the room. “Our scientists! It’s impossible to find a time when they’re not buried in their work.”

“Please join us,” Horton said, feeling underdressed in her jeans and running shoes.

Martineau and the woman walked into the room and stopped at the table in front of them. “Ellen, Neil, Viktor,” Martineau said warmly. “I would like you to meet one of our board members, Dr. Andrea Byington. Dr. Byington has—”

“Oh, please Luc, it’s Andrea,” she said affably and held out a hand to the scientists.

Horton was surprised by the powerful grip behind Byington’s small, perfectly manicured hand. She recognized the last name immediately. It was synonymous with old money in Philadelphia. And she knew that Byington Pharmaceuticals was one of the principal companies in the merger that created SeptoMed.

After introductions, Horton asked her: “Are you a physician or a researcher?”

“Neither, really.” Byington smiled warmly. “I’m a clinical psychologist.” She quickly added, “But I haven’t practiced in years.”